Is It Normal?
by HappyShannon
Summary: "Is it normal," I begin, not sure whether I should continue in case she tells me that, no, it isn't normal and I should be ashamed of myself – but I remember it's Miss Pillsbury, and she'd never say anything like that to anyone./Brittana.


"Hi Miss Pillsbury!" I say happily as I enter the counsellor's office. "You okay?"

She smiles at me – I've always been sure she likes me the most of all the students, because she always flashes her biggest smiles at me, even though we've only spoken one time before.

"I'm good, how are you?" she says, then looks at the chair across from her. I sit down in it, and lean across the desk to tell her something.

"I'm a bit upset," I tell her, lowering my voice to show that my information was _very_ important. "My cat showed my goldfish my diary. Now neither of them will talk to me! We barely spoke as it was, but… I thought it would be safe to write bad stuff about them in my diary, 'cause like, people are bored of me telling them stuff about my cat."

She takes in what I said for a moment, and then shakes her head. "That's terrible! I think it's rude of your cat to read your diary in the first place, never mind show it to your fish!" she exclaims, almost in a patronising way, but I know it's probably because she wants to get to the point of why she's asked me to see her.

"Why am I here?"

"Well, every now and then I like to check up on some of the students I haven't seen in a while, and we haven't spoken in around eighteen months." she says, and I nod once to show I understand. "So, is there anything that you'd like to talk about?"

"Coach Sylvester isn't very nice to me." I say sadly, "She says I'll never be a dancer, and I've never had a solo in Glee club, so I don't think Mr Schue thinks I'm a very good singer." Miss Pillsbury frowns and I carry on. "So if I can't sing, and I can't dance, what will I do when I'm older?"

"Brittany, I'm sure you can sing really well – and Coach Sylvester has a… unique way of trying to inspire her Cheerio's. Just keep trying your best. She may not show it, but she's proud of her team. I've seen you cheerleading, honey, and you're brilliant." she says, and I beam at her, because it's not very often I'm told I'm good at something. "And I'm sure you can do much more than just sing and dance. What else would you like to do?"

I think for a minute, and she gives me all the time I need. I feel quite happy here, having a talk with Miss Pillsbury. "I like this." I say, looking around the small but cosy room. "I like to help my friends with their problems and I'm good with people. I read body language well. Like I can tell right now you really want to do something. You're hands are all fidgety and you keep looking at the bookshelf, so like, do you wanna sort the books out?" She blushes slightly and nods a bit. "Don't be embarrassed! I like to clean stuff too." She giggles a little bit, but is still blushing. "Yeah, I'd like this job. It's helpful and clean and if I'm as pretty as you are I'll really like it."

"Thank you dear, but you're much prettier than I am." she says, blushing even more.

"Well, I dunno, maybe, a bit, but you look really good, especially for your age!" I smile. "You still look twenty!"

She's now bright red, and she mumbles a thank you to me. I can't help but think that with her red hair and red face, she looks a bit like a tomato, but when I'm about to tell her that she continues talking.

"Is there anything else on your mind? Maybe something that's bothering you?" she asks, slowly returning to her normal, pale colour. _Normal_. When I think of that word, I know what I want to ask her.

"Is it normal," I begin, not sure whether I should continue in case she tells me that, no, it isn't normal and I should be ashamed of myself – but I remember it's Miss Pillsbury, and she'd never say anything like that to anyone. "to like girls instead of guys? Like, I can make out with guys and hook up with them, but I don't really find them very cute. I don't like them very much. Puck was super sweet when I told him, because behind the cocky attitude and the Mohawk he's actually a pretty nice guy. He even offered to be my 'experiment', so I could test out if I do like boys or not."

She pauses, and I get worried. She's going to react badly. She's going to call me weird like Quinn did. She's going to-

"Sweetie, being a lesbian is perfectly fine. I'll admit, not many girls are openly gay at your ages, but the fact you were willing to tell me and some of your friends shows how brave you are." she says, and I smile. _Brave_. I'm _brave_. "But, I think when Puck suggested he'd be your experiment, he could have-"

"He was being nice!" I almost shout at her, because there's no way anyone could be cruel enough to take advantage of someone who was confused and scared and felt alone.

She knows she shouldn't try to argue with me, so she carries on talking. "But anyways, yes, it's fine and normal to be lesbian, don't worry."

"I wish some other girl who's 'lesbian' would come out." I say lesbian in a slightly sarcastic way, because I don't really understand what it means, but I assume, because of what we're talking about, it's what you're called if you only like girls.

It feels a bit awkward, knowing that Finn, Puck, Mike and Artie are all lesbian, but not a single girl is besides me.

"I'm bisexual." she tells me, and my brows furrow in confusion. "That's what you're called if you like guys and girls. I've always liked people as friends, and I grew up liking some people as crushes."

"So, you're like… half lesbian?" I say, feeling a little bit less alone. She nods, and I grin at her. "Awesome!"

"Yep!"

"So, Miss, have you ever met Santana Lopez?" I ask, even though I know she has, because during Cheerio practice a few months ago Coach Sylvester sent her to Miss Pillsbury because she had refused to be at the bottom of the pyramid, and Sylvester said she was insane to think she could get her own way by arguing.

"Yes, I have."

I look at the floor and ask slowly, "Do you think she could be lesbian?"

I feel myself going red. At this moment, I'm glad I don't have red hair so I don't look like a tomato as much as Miss Pillsbury did earlier.

"Oh, sweetie… I'm sorry, I don't know." she replies softly, "Maybe you could ask her?"

"Maybe."

We sit quietly until she breaks our silence.

"So, is it Santana you have a crush on?" she asks.

I stare at her with wide eyes. "How did you know?"

She raises an eyebrow, but jokily says, "I guess I'm just a bit of a mind reader."

I giggle and nod, rolling my eyes to show how stupid I was for not guessing that in the first place. "Yeah, I like Santana. A lot. I sometimes think maybe I'm in love with her, but I've never been in love with her before, so how would I know?"

"What does it feel like when you're with her?" she asks.

I think it's a bit of an inappropriate question, but she knows what she's doing, so I answer anyway.

"It's kind of like that song_, Love Game_ by Gaga, except instead of riding each others disco sticks – because we don't have them, obviously – we use these things we bought at a store that sold these super cool sex toys."

Miss Pillsbury stares at you, shocked, but she coughs awkwardly. I carry on smiling. "Honey, I think if you've had… sex… then she might be bisexual, or maybe even lesbian." she says, then adds, "And how do you feel when you're hanging out together, as friends?"

"Like every silly love song. I really, really like her." I say, and I get tears in my eyes.

"Oh…" she sighs, and she stands up, walks across to me and puts an arm around me. "It's okay to cry if you want to."

So I cry my heart out, telling her over and over that I like Santana so much.

"Love can be rough, but I'm sure you'll find out if she likes you soon." she says soothingly, "I'm sure she feels the same way."

"Really?" I look up at her. She nods, and I leap up and hug her. "Thanks."

"When you feel better, you can go back to class." she tells me, then looks at the clock and frowns. "Oh. School's over in around ten minutes anyway."

The last bell rings a few minutes after I've stopped crying, and once I've made her pinkie-promise not to tell anyone, I leave for Cheerio practice.

Santana and I meet in the girls locker rooms and I take her to the corner of the changing rooms and she leans against a locker impatiently.

"Brit, if we're late Sylvester will be _pissed_." Santana whispers to me.

"I wanted to tell you something!" I smile, and she rolls her eyes.

"What?"

"I'm lesbian!" I say, she stands up straight and her eyes widen.

"Seriously?" she asks.

"Yeah! I like girls." I say, nodding and smiling at her. She smirks.

Jokily, she says, "Ever had a crush on me?"

I open my mouth to say something but I just stare at her, feeling my face lose all colour.

She notices my face and continues. "Did you know I like guys and girls?"

I suddenly clap and jump, squealing. "Oh my God, really? You, me and Miss Pillsbury should have a girls-only lesbian club! Puck can come if he wants sometimes, but it should just be us girls usually."

"Miss Pillsbury?" She raises an eyebrow, but shakes her head and looks at me. "Brittany, I love you. "

My heart skips a beat and I manage to stammer, "I love you too."

She presses her lips against mine like we have done a thousand times, but this time there's sparks and energy and just as it's about to deepen, as it's getting hotter and my head starts spinning, Coach Sylvester grabs Santana by the shoulder and pulls her off me.

"I'm all for gay pride," she announces in her usual tone, "but making out while your team is waiting for you? Disgusting!" Santana and I look at each other, embarrassed. "Get on that field _now_!"

We begin to run to the field, and I say, "So… do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"I'm afraid I'm straight and way out of your league, but I'm sure Santana would accept your kind offer!" the coach calls from behind us.

"Yeah." Santana whispers and reaches out for my hands as we run.

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**Hope you guys like this :)**

**Reviews are almost as amazing as Brittana, so you should totally review.**

**:D**


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